BOMBING THE OPPOSITION

10,000 year 'Friendship' monument 

It’s a strange looking monument, full of contradictions. The top has snake-like 'nagas' at every corner; a tower of sharp angled rooftops and golden trim. In short, the top half looks like the upper reaches of a peaceful Buddhist temple.

The bottom half is the opposite, with military themes. It’s a stone, gray, communist sculpture, in the stern Soviet style. Two of the figures are soldiers, both carrying AK-47s. Close in front of them, a woman holds a baby.

For the pair of stern looking soldiers, one is Vietnamese. He’s easy to pick out; a pigeon sits atop his Vietnamese Army pith helmet. The other soldier at his side has a pigeon sitting on his collar, while his hand holds the baby’s arm aloft. He’s obviously a Khmer soldier. Meanwhile the woman holds her Khmer scarf, which is wrapped around his rifle.  

Between the two extremes a painted plaque shows this odd looking monument's theme: crossed Cambodian and Vietnamese flags. This is the '10,000 Year Cambodian-Vietnamese Friendship Monument' in downtown Phnom Penh.

When the radical Khmer Rouge decided to take on Vietnam in the mid 1970's, they finally bit off more than they could chew. The USA and the west had given up on their military campaigns in Cambodia years before; so it was finally the Vietnamese that drove out the murderous Khmer Rouge. This was a rare time in history, when a communist country, 'liberated' another communist country.

Many Cambodians today are grateful that the Vietnamese forced out the genocidal Khmer Rouge, that’s true. But it wasn't long after Vietnam took over Cambodia, that things turned sour.

Stone figures: 2 soldiers, woman and child

After Vietnam’s army forced the Khmer Rouge out of Phnom Penh, their soldiers began looting. The city’s empty houses were still full of furniture and appliances, left behind from the violent exodus of 1975. Mattresses were cut open with bayonets, as troops searched for hidden money and jewelry. Soon after, an enormous convoy of trucks loaded with looted booty was seen on Highway 1, heading back to Vietnam with their spoils of war. Their image as ‘liberators’ was tarnished.

The Vietnamese have long been Cambodia’s traditional rival, and as the Khmer Rouge took to the countryside for another long guerrilla war, most citizens began to feel that the Vietnamese overstayed their welcome. Starting in 1978, Vietnam occupied Cambodia with over 180,000 troops, and they remained until 1989. More than 55,000 of them died. (A figure close to the number of US soldiers who had died in Vietnam.) Far more Khmers died during that same period. Every one of those years was full of unending conflict, and economic hardship.

There is still a great deal of resentment by Khmers against the Vietnamese. That bitterness is sometimes expressed through violent means, as happened on this very spot in 2007. Local English language news reported on the incident. “The officials were very much concerned, finding the bombs at the “Ten Thousand Year” Khmer-Yuon [Vietnamese] Friendship Statue, where early morning at 5:20 on 29 July one bomb had exploded. After the scare about the explosion of a locally made bomb, Khmer officials found two more locally made bombs; the second bomb exploded by itself at 11:15, and the third bomb was destroyed by Cambodian Mine Action Center experts, using their technical procedures, at 11:50 on the same 29 July 2007.”

Stupa for those that died in the massacre

It didn't end there. There were further bomb plots in 2009, culminating in an arrest: “Banteay Meanchey provincial police chief Hun Hean said that his officers working with the Ministry of Interior caught 46-year-old Ty To at his home on Wednesday and found 53 different bomb-making items there, including TNT and radio devices,” according to the Cambodia Daily.

"(Ty To) told the police that he was involved with the attempt to blow up the Cambodian-Vietnamese Friendship Monument and also with the TNT case on the Russian Boulevard (in Phnom Penh)," the paper said.

What the local news reports don’t say, is a major reasons for those bombings, is connected to problems in the Mekong Delta. Centuries ago the entire delta was Cambodian territory. This is lost land that they still wish to have back. Many thousands of ethnic Khmers still live there today, and many of them followed a well known Buddhist monk. He was arrested by the Vietnamese, for what the Khmers say were trumped up charges. The bombing of the monument was an act of retaliation. This Khmer-Vietnamese rivalry still continues to this day.

This is one of the larger public parks in Phnom Penh, and it has seen other violence. On the far side of the park, there is a wide stretch of red brick sidewalk; an open area with grass at the side. As I look, a few Khmers walk through. Nothing seems special about this sidewalk.

Sadly, violence has visited this downtown park more than once. I walk down to a corner of the park, where post-war democracy took a big hit in Cambodia. Near the sidewalk, is a golden stupa (Buddhist memorial tower). The rope fence around it has been cut or frayed in places, but I can clearly read the plaque on the side.

“TO THE HEROIC DEMONSTRATORS WHO LOST THEIR LIVES ON 30 MARCH 1997
FOR THE CAUSE OF JUSTICE AND DEMOCRACY
THE TRAGEDY OCCURRED 60 METERS FROM THIS MONUMENT
ON THE SIDEWALK OF THE PARK ACROSS FROM THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY”

Corner of the park where the massacre happened

Back on that Easter day in this park, a peaceful protest was led by opposition leader Sam Rainsy. Just after he finished his speech, four grenades were thrown into his crowd of supporters. 16 innocent people died, and more than 100 were injured.

Not surprisingly, nobody has ever been arrested or prosecuted for the massacre. That's because the protesters who were targeted, were in a political party that opposes the current Prime Minister (dictator) Hun Sen. As an American was injured by grenade shrapnel, the FBI launched an investigation. Some US officials blamed Hun Sen's bodyguard unit for the attack. His heavily armed bodyguards that were present for the demonstration, were also seen covering the escape of those responsible for the attack. 

Sadly, that hasn't been the end of political violence in Cambodia. Between 1999 and 2004, there were four politically motivated murders which also remain unsolved to this day. These have included a senior political adviser, a union leader, a judge, an actress, and a reporter. Most were well connected to opposition political parties.  There are widespread suspicions and accusations that the CPP (Hun Sen’s political party) was responsible for most of these murders. 

For all the advancements that Cambodia has made since the departure of the Khmer Rouge, democracy in this troubled country has a long, long way to go.

WHERE GUERRILLAS ATTACKED THE HIGHWAY

The edge of the Plain of Jars. Some Hmong fighters still hide out in the remote northern mountains.

The last Lao passengers climb aboard our bus in Luang Prabang. I’m anxious to get started, as we have a 10 hour drive ahead to get to the remote province of Xieng Khuang. Like most bus stations, this is a drab place. At least it’s boring until the last rider gets on, as he carries very unexpected baggage! 

He's carrying a Kalashnikov assault rifle! This Laotian teenager with a peach fuzz moustache has one of the world's deadliest weapons in his hands. I watch as he slowly walks down the aisle towards me, stopping right at my side. Then he casually puts the AK-47 on the shelf overhead, and sits down behind me. 

Across the aisle, a curly haired French backpacker listening to his MP3 player stares at this process, totally wide eyed. The look on his face is something between stunned and confused. Until this moment, he has probably only seen an AK-47 rifle in the movies. 

As it turns out, the heavily armed young traveler isn’t a guerilla, he happens to be an armed guard for the bus company. His presence isn’t really needed here in Luang Prabang though, since the town is safe enough. I recall seeing a few policemen relaxing outside a police station, and they carried no weapons at all. The reason for the armed guard’s presence, is due to trouble on the highways ahead of us. 

Traditional homes in the highlands

Back in 2003 a bus traveling on Route 13 was ambushed. 10 Laotians were killed, as well as two Swiss cyclists. An attack on another bus south of Luang Prabang later that year left 12 more dead and 31 injured. Both attacks were believed to be by Hmong rebels hiding out in the highlands. These were probably revenge attacks, after Hmong civilians were killed by security forces. Hoping to keep the existence of these rebels quiet, the Laotian government tends to write them off as ‘bandits’.

These highway attacks took place before the Laotian government began an amnesty program for the Hmong rebels. Many of them finally came down from the mountains and gave up their weapons, but not all of them joined the amnesty. There are still some Hmong fighters hiding out in the remote hills. As I had already heard explosions one night in Vang Vieng, its evident that the army is still pursuing the holdouts in the mountains. With fewer rebels around these days, the roads have been quiet recently. 

The driver starts up the old bus engine, and we head east into the highlands. The little guard behind me stretches out across two seats, and goes to sleep. He’s certainly not the type of security guard to be vigilant. If our bus ends up getting attacked today, he would have to wake up, stand up, grab his weapon off the shelf, and then load it with the the ammunition clip he carries in his pocket. Only then, could he return fire. With him snoozing behind me, I’m hoping this will be an uneventful trip. 

We make good time as we ascend into the highlands. Although only two lanes, the highway we're on is well paved. The surrounding hills may not be completely pacified, but road infrastructure in Laos has improved considerably since the war years. 

Stopover town on the highway from Luang Prabang to Phonsavan, once a dangerous route

One reason for this improvement, has been road construction completed by their northern neighbors, the Chinese. Road construction by Chinese in Laos goes all the way back to the war, when Red Army road crews built roads in the far northern provinces. During all those years of bombing, by the US Air Force, American pilots were careful not to target Chinese road crews. Washington did not want to risk increased intervention from the China communists. 

These days its Chinese capitalists that are coming in droves. Today, many Chinese companies are running projects all over Laos, and they've returned to road building. Chinese road crews are completing a key trade route, a main artery running through northern Laos, that will connect China to Thailand. It’s real progress to have commerce as the driving force behind road construction, rather than war. 

Hours later, I awaken from a nap feeling familiar pressure in my ears. We are gaining altitude, and my ears are popping. Looking out the window, the mountains are giving way to rolling green hills. We have arrived on a high plateau. I’m getting my first view of the geographical place, known as as the 'Plain of Jars'. The temperature is thankfully cooler now, since we have climbed to an altitude of 3000 feet. At around 400 square miles, this highland plateau has always been strategic to northern Laos. For that reason, some of the worst fighting of the Secret War of the 1960's - 1970's took place in these rolling hills. 

Continuing across the highlands, we finally arrive outside Phonsavan, capital of Xieng Khuang Province. Fortunately there was no need for our armed guard to load his weapon on this trip. As we park he takes on another duty; unloading baggage. He hands me my suitcase, I grab a tuk-tuk, and head into the highland town. There's a great deal to be seen here on the Plain of Jars. 

SHOOTINGS AT THE BRIDGE

View through window of the tragic bridge shooting site

I’ve departed Vang Vieng in northern Laos, and Route 13 is taking me due south, into the town of Hinh Heup. Slowing down, we approach another of the roads many river crossings. Unlike others this is no small creek; the Nam Lik River is hundreds of feet wide. 

As we cross the old bridge I hear an unexpectedly loud racket beneath our vehicle. It’s the rude sound of clanking metal. The weight of the bus is coming down on each of the crossing’s heavy modular panels, sided with creaking criss-crossed rails. Rather than the huge modern 'Friendship Bridge' that crosses the Mekong River, this structure is built more from an old military style. 

The way across is only a single lane bridge. This may pass for a highway crossing in Laos, but with only one lane this bridge is prone to congestion, which backs up traffic as vehicles wait their turn to cross. 

In 1975 this bridge was the scene of congestion of a different kind: fleeing refugees! As they descended from the mountains, this narrow bridge became the scene of an atrocity wrought on the minority Hmong people. 

Hmong in traditional dress (Source: Wikipedia)

That year, the Pathet Lao communists and their North Vietnamese allies unleashed a major campaign of violent retribution against the Hmong, as punishment for their siding with the Americans and the Royal Laotian Government during the war. Hungry and fearing for their lives, the survivors were fleeing the fighting to the north. An exodus of more than 20,000 Hmong civilians flooded this road south towards Vientiane. 

As they reached this bridge in Hinh Heup, Pathet Lao soldiers blocked their way. Despite their desperate situation, they would not allow the refugee families to cross the bridge to flee to safer regions! 

The Hmong were ordered to return to their homes in the north. With many of their houses already destroyed, the Hmong didn’t have homes left to return to. Desperate with nowhere to go, and with nothing left to lose, the refugees rushed the bridge on May 29th.

The soldiers opened fire. At least five Hmong civilians were shot dead, and dozens were wounded. Rather than returning north, the survivors scattered. Many fled to Thailand by other routes.

As I listen to the banging of the loose steel panels while we drive across the bridge, I look out across the water. Just a couple hundred yards upriver, I can see work underway on a modern two lane bridge, built by a Japanese construction company. 

We reach the far side of the river, and as we drive on I look back to where we have just passed. There is no memorial here at the old bridge, to mark where the massacre happened. Since a new bridge is being built, this old bridge where this atrocity took place may soon be gone as well. 

The rutted highway through Hinh Heup

There may not be a memorial here, marking the site where the civilians were killed that sad day. 

There may always be official denials by the government of Laos, saying that the shootings here on this bridge never happened. 

But the Hmong will always remember. 

BOMBING WHERE THE WAR NEVER ENDED

Bars and restaurants in Vang Vieng. The war is over here. Or is it??

BOOM!  BA-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!

It’s after 1am, and I’m sitting in a bar in Vang Vieng, Laos. The explosions I just heard are from far off in the night. There's a lot of background noise in the bar, but there's no mistaking what I just heard. Those blasts weren’t thunder, and they weren’t fireworks. They're from something far more sinister, probably artillery. At least eight explosions went off close together. It sounded like they detonated in the mountains to the east.

I ask the Laotian bartender across the bar from me, “What was that??”

He heard the explosions too, but he’s silent. I saw him speaking English earlier tonight, but now he won’t answer me. 

Old explosives and weapons from fighting by the Hmong against the communists

Not giving up, I press him further, “Is that from problems with the Hmong?” Fighting between the Hmong and the communists began decades ago during the Vietnam War. The outside world hasn't heard about it for years, but there are still rumors of occasional ambushes in the remote mountains of Laos. 

Continuing to hold his tongue, the bartender's face is blank. Then he turns, and walks away. If he knows anything, he’s not about to tell me. 

I manage to see someone else here that's in a more talkative mood. Further down the bar, I approach an expat westerner. He has lived in Vang Vieng for a while now. Mentioning the explosions, I ask him if there is still conflict in the area between the government forces and Hmong fighters.

“Yeah, it still goes on,” he informs me. “It’s never really stopped.”

So it’s true, there is still fighting in the mountains! This is news almost unheard of. Now I've heard bombing myself, and this expat just confirmed that resistance continues. Hmong groups had been surrendering the past few years, but nobody saied that fighting was still going on. Sadly, the communist war against the Hmong people never ended completely. Despite government denials, there are still army attacks against Hmong hold outs in the mountains. For America, the Vietnam War ended in 1973. For America's ally the Hmong, the war never really ended.

“Just a few years ago there were bombings at a couple bars on the island,” the westerner tells me. “The government keeps it very quiet."

There is still sporadic fighting targeting Hmong hold outs in remote northern mountains 

After disclosing this, the expat remembers that he shouldn’t be telling me about the fighting, especially here in a public bar. He has let his guard down to talk about the hidden conflict, but not for long. 

“I’m really drunk, and stoned,” he admits. “I shouldn’t be talking about this.” Then he motions to the Laotian bar staff. “They’ll hear me.” 

He’s afraid someone will tell the police that he’s talking about the unrest. I don't think he would get arrested; he’s no human rights activist. But as a foreigner living in Laos, he’s worried that if he’s caught blabbering, the government will deny his next visa renewal. 

In recent years, a gutsy photo journalist found a group of Hmong guerrillas still fighting the communists near Vang Vieng. The holdout community had survived an attack where 26 of their family members had been massacred. His astounding photo gallery can be viewed here: 
"LAOS: Still a Secret War"

In other parts of Laos between 2000 - 2004, there were also a number of other isolated terrorist bombings. Vientiane and a few other cities were targeted. At least one Lao was killed, with many others injured. Responsibility for the bombings was claimed by a group calling itself, “The Free Democratic Government Committee of the Lao People”. This 'committee' is most likely a separate group of anti-government Lao exiles, that are unconnected to the Hmong. 

There haven’t been any reported bombings in Laos since, and tourism here continues to rise. Still, I can’t help but wonder. If the Laotian government continues on its unbending course of one party rule, and continues to pursue the Hmong hold outs in the mountains, will it be long before there are more violent incidents that spill over into the cities?

MISSING IN ACTION MYSTERY

US made armored vehicles in Hue, captured from the South Vietnamese Army at the war's end

Today I'm in the old capital Hue inside the Citadel. I'm outside the Imperial Enclosure, and as I'm strolling along Thang Street, I chance upon what is known as 'The Conflict Museum’. It's easy to find, since big American made tanks and armored vehicles are parked right out front. Although armor was used by the US military to retake the Citadel in 1968, plaques beneath these heavy vehicles state that most were captured at Tan My Port in 1975, as the war ended. The plaques don’t mention they were abandoned by ARVN troops, who were trying to board ships and escape south.

Buying a ticket, I find the section on the American war, and prepare myself to sort through what is truth, and what is propaganda. There is plenty of both, but I’ll be shocked at what else I find here.

At first, the museum is heavy on weapons, documents, and old photos. There's an emphasis on the torture of captured communists by the ‘puppet’ soldiers, and by the US. Like in the ‘War Remnants Museum’, these atrocities were documented elsewhere. Of course

US made bombs on display in the museum

there's no mention of torture inflicted by the communists themselves. For all their focus on atrocities, one of the most horrific events of the war here in Hue, is not mentioned in the museum at all. In 1968 when the communists took the city, they rounded up and massacred 3,000 of Hue’s citizens. It was the worst massacre of the war. Most killed were civil servants and government officials. These included teachers, lawyers, firemen, doctors, policemen and administrators. But the communists didn’t stop there. The dead included women, children, Catholic priests, nuns, Buddhist monks, and a French medical team. 

These unfortunate civilians were marked for death by Viet Cong (VC) spies who had been living among them until the takeover. In the first days of the takeover they were quickly rounded up, executed and buried in mass graves, many near the Perfume River. These mass graves were discovered as US troops were retaking the city. During that deadly month of occupation, the VC had murdered an entire generation of Hue’s civilian leadership.

US Army Cobra gunship, type flown by Capt. McDonnell. Source: Wikimedia Commons

Continuing on, I find many weapons here, all were manufactured in the US, Russia, or China. I ponder over this: all the weapons are of foreign origin. So what if North and South Vietnam were left to fight the war alone, using only their domestically made weapons? What would they have used to fight each other? Knives and bamboo spears?

For the average North Vietnamese Army and Viet Cong fighter, this war was mainly a fight for reunification, and to kick out foreign invaders. For the Americans, Russians and Chinese, the implications of the Vietnam War were much broader. This was also a proxy war, part of the larger Cold War dividing the world at the time. Most Vietnamese today still don't understand this.

Another group of photos show anti-war demonstrations within Vietnam in the 1960’s. They glorifly the demonstrations from those years, but they won’t allow any demonstrations against the government today.

The last room has exhibits from when the communists recaptured the city as the

ARVN and US Army ID's on display

war ended. A display caption reads, “SOME ID CARDS OF THE AMERICAN AND PUPPET SOLDIERS, TAKEN BY THELIBERATION TROOP IN MARCH 1975”. Lined up like playing cards, there are many genuine military ID's from ARVN troops, along with 11 Army ID cards from American soldiers. This is another mislabeled caption. Nearly all American troops were long gone out of Vietnam after the peace was signed in 1973, so these 11 soldiers couldn’t have been captured in Hue in 1975. This is just more propaganda, but the ID cards themselves are genuine. I wonder, were these men killed in action earlier in the war?

On a hunch, I decide to research the US soldiers on these ID cards. I knew that there was a story for each one of these young men. I decide to search beyond the propaganda, and try to find out what really happened to them.

Getting to a computer later, I begin tracking down their information searching through various public databases.. Of the 11 ID cards, the text of one name isn’t visible, leaving me 10 to research. Four of the ID cards don’t have any relevant information that I can find. Their names are not listed on Vietnam War Memorial, so these four men weren’t killed in Vietnam. They aren't on the list of the prisoners of war (POWs) released at the war’s end either. For these four men, perhaps their ID cards were lost or stolen.

For the ID of one Staff Sargeant, I’m pleased to learn through a networking search that he survived the war. A former Army Ranger in Vietnam, he’s now a civilian manager of a contracting company. Like the other four, I’m curious to know how his ID card ended up here. I wonder if he is even aware that his old Army ID is on display in a Vietnamese museum.

US soldier's ID cards. I searched to find out what happened to these men.

More searches find results for four other ID cards. I’m sad to learn that these men were killed in action (KIA). Mark Bush, Milton Swain, Max Johnson and Richard Staab. From the Vietnam War Memorial database, I learn that all four were with the 101st Airborne, an elite Army unit. All were killed in fighting in Thua Tien Province, of which Hue is a part. None of them died here during the Tet Offensive though. All four were killed later on different dates, between 1969 - 1970. These ID’s may have been removed from their bodies by the VC or NVA after they fell on the battlefield.

Then there is the last name, the only officer in the group. I type in his name for a web search, and hit return.

My mouth drops open. I’m shocked at what I find.

Captain John T. McDonnell. There is far more information about him, then there is on any of the others that I looked up before. That’s because he was not killed in action. He is still listed today as MIA, Missing In Action in Vietnam. He disappeared on March 6, 1969, and he hasn’t been seen or heard from since!

On that day Capt. McDonnell was flying a combat mission south of Hue in a Cobra helicopter gunship. The chopper was hit by ground fire and crashed. The injured pilot of the helicopter was found and evacuated. Unfortunately, due to the nature of his injuries, he couldn’t recall what had happened to McDonnell.
 
US forces searching for the chopper, found the wreckage. McDonnell’s helmet was found, with no traces of blood. His seatbelt was found unlocked, so it’s likely he fled on foot. The search team found abandoned enemy positions nearby, and since McDonnell’s body wasn't found, it’s likely he was taken prisoner. The presence of his ID in this museum practically confirms it.

Later information collected from investigators, indicated he was likely being held prisoner by the NVA. Incredibly, he may even have still been alive after the war's end in 1973, when all other

More IDs. Capt. John T. McDonnell, at the bottom, is Missing In Action.

American prisoners of war (POW’s) were supposedly sent home.

I’ve learned that there is something even worse than being killed in a war. There is the great misfortune of disappearing in combat, and never being found. Ever. Capt. McDonnell’s disappearance created a pain for his family that is never ending. For years they were unable to mourn for him, since they didn’t know if he was either dead or alive. Years later, the Army finally declared him officially dead, but how did his death happen, and when? What really happened to him may remain a mystery that will never be solved.

Unfortunately, John McDonnell’s family is not alone. After the US war ended in 1973, and all prisoners were exchanged, more than 2,500 Americans remained listed as Missing In Action in Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia. Since the North Vietnamese soon resumed the war, the US government never paid them the $4.5 billion in war reparations agreed to in the Paris Peace Accords. For years afterward, many believed the North Vietnamese were still holding live American prisoners of war, perhaps hostages for the war reparations. Some American POW’s may have remained in prison camps, held for political ransom.

For their part the communists denied this, claiming all live Americans had already been returned. In at least one case, their claims were disproved. Robert Garwood, a US Marine who had been missing since 1965, was finally released by the Vietnamese in 1979, six years after the US war ended. He was later convicted of aiding and abetting the enemy, but for years the North Vietnamese had never admitted that he was in their possession.

John McDonnell also may have been alive after the war, and he remains listed as Missing In Action today. But the presence of his ID card in this military museum leaves many unanswered questions. For this card to have ended up here, somebody in the NVA or VC must have taken this ID card from McDonnell while he was still alive, or removed it from his uniform after his death. The US military is aware of his ID card in this museum, but his fate remains unknown. After Capt. McDonnell’s chopper went down, he didn’t just disappear into thin air. Somebody here in Vietnam knew what happened to him. 

There are still mysteries to solve in Vietnam. 

THE UNLIKELY HERO

Thi Lien was saved by a helicopter crew

I'm continuing my visit to the My Lai massacre site in Vietnam. It's a sad memorial place, a rural village in central Vietnam where hundreds of civilians were killed by US soldiers in a 1968 operation. I've already met one woman that survived that massacre, an older lady in her 80's who is still there today. She had told me her moving story of survival.  

Among the landscaping near the My Lai memorial statue, I see another woman in her 40's tending to the greenery. Like so many Vietnamese women who work the rice paddies, she’s wearing long gloves to protect her skin from the sun. From beneath her conical hat she looks my way, and pauses from her work. She smiles at me, and gives me a friendly wave. It turns out that she is also a survivor of the massacre that occurred here!

With the help of my translator, I learn her amazing story. 

Her name is Nguyen Thi Lien, and she was only seven when the attack happened. Today she’s tending a garden of shrubs here in My Lai, next to the long ditch where more than 100 civilians were shot to death on that horrible day in 1968. My translator says that she was at this same ditch when the shooting happened. Her mother covered her, and when the shooting stopped, they both played dead among the other bodies. Then the American soldiers walked away. The dead were all around them, so they gathered with other survivors in a nearby bunker. They started yelling, hoping someone from a nearby village would come and help them. A squad of US soldiers heard their screaming, and returned to finish them off.

Before the soldiers reached their bunker, a small US helicopter swooped down from the sky, and landed in between them. The pilot and his armed crew got out, and placed themselves between the civilians and the other American soldiers. There was talking and shouting, but Thi Lien couldn’t understand what they were saying. She couldn’t know it, but in between the profanities, the American pilot had told his crew that if the approaching soldiers opened fire on those civilians, than his helicopter crew was to return fire on the soldiers.

The pilot approached the terrified Vietnamese in the bunker, and motioned to Thi Lien and the others inside that they should come out. His aim was to take them to safety. Since they already feared the Americans from the killings that they had witnessed earlier, Thi Lien and her mother fled on foot to a nearby village. At the request of the pilot, another larger helicopter landed, and took the other surviving villagers to safety. 

An OH-23 helicopter. Colburn and his crew saved Thi Lien, and 9 other civilians. (Photo: US Army)

With all the killing of civilians at My Lai, Thi Lien was fortunate that this one group of US soldiers had intervened to stop the massacre. He had saved 10 village civilians from certain death.

The pilot who had saved them, was US Army Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson. He had been flying a reconnaissance mission over My Lai in his OH-23 Raven. He and his door gunner Larry Colburn, and crew chief Glenn Andreotta saw the corpses, and the killing that was happening beneath them. Horrified by what they saw, they landed to stop the further murder of civilians. 

Besides Thi Lien and others in the bunker, another boy was saved by this crew with a conscience. As they were flying overhead, they saw movement in the dozens of corpses lying in the bloody ditch. After landing the helicopter, crew chief Andreotta waded into the tangle of bodies, and pulled out an eight year old boy named Do Hoa. Andreotta and Colburn brought him onto the chopper, and Thompson flew him to the nearest hospital in Quang Ngai. He hadn't been seriously injured, and the boy survived. 

Thompson as a young pilot (Photo: US Army)

As horrible as the massacre was here, the Vietnamese still recognized that these three US soldiers performed their duty with honor, by saving 10 civilians. Photos of them and their story, are posted in the memorial museum. 

As for what happened to this hero helicopter crew, two of them survived the war. Only one of them still survives today.

Glenn Andreotta, the helicopter crew chief who had pulled the young boy Do Hoa from the corpse filled ditch, never made it home to the USA. He was killed in action in Vietnam only three weeks later.

The hero pilot whose actions had saved the civilians, Warrant Officer Hugh Thompson, managed to survive the war, even though his helicopter was shot down several times. The last time he was shot down, he had broken his spine. Although he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for his actions at My Lai, Thompson threw the medal away, seeing it as an attempt to buy his silence. But Thompson’s silence could not be bought. He later testified about the massacre at military inquiries, at the court martial of Lt. Calley, and even before the US Congress, so that the awful truth about My Lai could be known.

Thompson was quickly ostracized by other pilots and army officers. He received hate mail and death threats. Thompson left the army for good in 1983. Afterwards, he continued to fly civilian helicopters, ferrying workers out to gulf oil rigs. 

L to R: Thompson, Colburn, Do Hoa, and Colburn's son in 2001 (Photo: Kummer)

It wasn’t until many years later, that Thompson was finally recognized publicly for doing the right thing. In 1998, the Pentagon awarded him the soldier’s medal. Thompson initially refused to accept the medal, arguing that his two crewman deserved the citation as well. On this point, Thompson won, and they all received the award. Later in 2004, Thompson was inducted into the Army Aviation Hall of Fame. 

Sadly, two years later Thompson died of cancer in Louisiana at the age of 62. His former door gunner, Larry Colburn, came to visit him on his death bed. The two had reconnected in the years afterwards. Today, Colburn is the only survivor from their original helicopter crew. Like Thompson, he had testified for the inquiries, and he has given many interviews for articles and documentaries about My Lai. Colburn now owns a medical supply business, and lives outside of Atlanta with his wife and son.

On a better note, in 2001 Thompson and Colburn traveled back to Vietnam, back to My Lai. Working with the Wisconsin Quakers, the former soldiers returned to dedicate a new elementary school for the children of My Lai village. These two honored veterans were even able to meet with some of the survivors that they had saved, including Do Hoa, the traumatized little boy that they had flown to Quang Ngai Hospital. 

It was a reunion that had been a long time coming. In the following years, the young Vietnamese boy that they had saved, had grown into a man. Do Hoa had become an electrician. 

Even though he was now an adult, Do Hoa addressed both Colburn and Thompson as, ‘Poppa’.

MASSACRE AT MY LAI

The memorial statue in My Lai

I’m walking down a quiet path of a rural village, when I hear the sound of a bird unlike any that I’ve ever heard before. The sound of this bird wasn’t a song, and it wasn’t a chirp. This sound was a shriek of terror.

As I turned towards the sound, I caught sight of a bird of prey. It had swooped down from the sky, attacked the smaller bird I had heard, and was now grasping it’s victim in its talons. The smaller bird shrieked and struggled, as the larger bird carried its prey down to the ground, and out of sight in the tall grass. The smaller bird continued to shriek, and shriek, and shriek. Then the shrieks grew fainter.

Then they stopped.

I had never seen a bird kill another bird before. It was the strong, killing the weak, and it was a violent, and cruel sight. It’s especially eerie that I see this attack happen in the place where I’m standing right now. I’m in a village called Son My, and in March of 1968, death descended here from the skies above. What happened in this farming village, came to be known to the outside world as the massacre at My Lai.

Arriving by helicopter on that fateful morning, were 120 soldiers from Charlie Company, from the 23rd Infantry Division. These US Army soldiers were on a ‘Search and Destroy’ mission, and since they were told the village was a Viet Cong stronghold, they were expecting a fight. As the G.I.’s swept into the hamlets, they encountered no armed resistance at all. Despite the lack of resistance, the soldiers began killing the village's civilians.

The soldiers forced the villagers from their homes, gathered them together in groups, and shot them. Other villagers were shot in the back as they fled. Some were forced into their family bomb shelters, and grenades were tossed in after them. Still others were stabbed and slashed to death with bayonets. More than one woman in the village was raped.

It's hard to believe that this tranquil village was once the scene of horrible violence.

Most of those killed were women, children and old men. There were few men of fighting age in the village that morning. By the time the soldiers left four hours later, hundreds of Vietnamese civilians were dead, and the houses of My Lai were burning to the ground.

The current Vietnamese government claims that 504 people were killed here. The American military claims that 347 died here. The actual number of those killed is probably somewhere in between. For the Americans, there was only one casualty. One soldier had been shot, but it was only from a self-inflicted wound. The young soldier had shot himself in the foot to avoid taking part in the bloodbath. Some of the soldiers refused to take part in the killing, but most did.

Throughout history, the US Army has had many honorable victories. Yorktown, Gettysburg, Omaha Beach, and more. But what happened here wasn’t a victory, it was the killing of civilians. The My Lai massacre became a stain of disgrace, on the reputation of the US Army.

As I walk through this somber place, I find the village to be the saddest place I will ever encounter in Vietnam. Part of the massacre site has become a memorial to those who died here, and the mood is truly melancholy. Heading down one walkway, I pass the statues of three women and a baby. The green statues are all frozen in macabre poses. Each figure is depicted at the moment of their death. It’s as though they are stopped in time, caught in the moment that they were struck by gunfire. 

Although the village was destroyed in the massacre, one house has been rebuilt as part of the memorial. A grey haired gardner is tending the yard, and she smiles at me as I approach. I step into the home of what was once a simple Vietnamese farming family, and it looks much as it did before the destruction of that terrible morning. The house is a simple two room farmer's home, with basic wooden furnishings, and a small Buddhist altar. The thatched rooftops of this and the other homes, made it easy for the soldiers to burn down the entire village using little more than  cigarette lighters.

Once destroyed, this family's home has been rebuilt

Nearby, are more disturbing re-creations. Two homes were reconstructed to look as they did immediately after the attack. Where once there were two humble Vietnamese homes, left in their place are the shells of two burned out ruins.

In front of one destroyed house, a sign states the following: “House of Mr. Do Phi’s family restored after being burnt down by US soldiers on March 16th, 1968. Five of his family members were killed.” The sign also lists their names and ages. 

Do Thi Hiep              57
Nguyen Thi Tuong    23
Do Cu Bay                  9
Pham Cu                    4
Do Cu                         1

Surrounding the grim ruins are more family home sites, built only to their foundations. All have a sign posted, listing the names and ages of the family members killed that morning. Sign after sign, family after family, the numbers of the dead add up.

Even the footpaths have been marked to remember that day. No longer just bare ground, the paths have been covered in concrete that is painted to look like dirt. Embedded into the concrete, are eerie tracks. Like the remade ruins, the paths have been recreated to appear as they did the day the massacre happened. They are  marked with the footprints of bare feet, made to represent the villagers. There are the tracks of bicycle wheels, which were so common in those days. Finally, there are the distinct imprints of army boots, like those worn by the soldiers.

Ha Thi Quy, survivor of My Lai

Finding shade by the thatched roof house, I sit on a bench to get comfortable. Seated next to me, is the gardener I saw trimming plants by the house. My translator introduces me, and I receive a heartfelt greeting. With greying hair, the older woman has few teeth; she appears to be in her 80's. She has to be the oldest gardener I’ve ever met. It turns out there's far more to this woman than meets the eye. This friendly senior citizen, is not just a gardener. I’m shocked to learn that she's also a survivor of the My Lai massacre! As we converse, the woman’s dramatic story unfolds. Her name is Ha Thi Quy, and she was 43 back when the massacre happened. 

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” she tells me, and those few words hit hard. As she begins to tell me her story, her friendly face totally changes. She becomes somber, and her eyes have a very deep, faraway look. This look has also been called, ‘the thousand yard stare’. It's a look common to people who have witnessed traumatizing events.

Ha said that the soldiers gathered up more than 100 villagers that day, and forced them together into a ditch before they opened fire. The ditch she speaks of is only yards away from where she is speaking to me now.

“I was shot in the leg,” Ha tells me, and she shows me her scar. The soldiers fired on the crowd repeatedly, and they returned later to finish off those wounded. Two of her children were killed there. Ha survived in the ditch by playing dead, with other bloodied bodies lying on top of her. She remained there until the soldiers had gone. One of her children survived, as well as Ha’s husband, who was away working the fields that day. After burying their two children, there was nothing left for them in their village.

“Before the massacre, my family was fine financially,” Ha said. Afterwards she was left destitute. The family house had been burned to the ground, and they lost all their possessions. “We moved away and lived with other relatives,” she said.

The war and the massacre have taken so much from Ha and her family, that she still hasn’t recovered. In her old age she should be retired, but her government pension isn't much, so she continues working here as a gardener. Ha has shared her painful story with me, so I feel the urge to help her in some way. Before I leave her, we walk together around the corner of the house. Out of sight from the other staff, I quickly place twenty dollars into her unexpecting hand.

Ha looks up at me, and her face lights up all over again as she shakes my hand enthusiastically. Twenty dollars is not much money to an American, but I’ve just given her the equivalent of a week’s pay. It’s the very least I can do.

I’ve been to many memorial sites before, but this is the first one I’ve ever been to where survivors of a massacre are present. The presence of eye witnesses here, and their first hand stories, makes my time in My Lai even more mind blowing. Memorial statues can be lifelike, and signs can list the names of the dead. But when it comes to communicating the horror of what happened here, there is nothing more effective, then to see a survivor’s face as she tells their personal story. 

Life size figures displayed in the museum graphically depict the massacre

Also in the village is the Son My Museum. I enter, and as one would expect it’s a depressing place. Visitors are so moved by what they see here, that they view the displays with a silent reverence. On the walls are shocking photos taken during, and after the massacre by US Army photographer Ron Haeberle. His graphic photos of civilian corpses became the most damning evidence of the massacre. Haeberle’s photos ended up on the front pages of newspapers around the world, exposing the massacre to millions. Some  photos are so bloody and graphic, that they couldn't be shown in the American press. That didn’t stop the museum from displaying the gruesome photos here.

A chilling exhibit on display has life sized plaster figures, depicting a scene of the killing. Two soldiers are shooting five Vietnamese dead, four of them women and children. Another soldier pulls a woman by the hair to join them. In the painted background, bodies lie in the bloodied ditch. Smoke and flames rise from village huts as they burn.

Up on one wall are post-war photos of five American GI’s that took part in the massacre. None have them have ever been convicted of murder. The Army investigation of My Lai was a whitewash, and although 26 soldiers were charged in the massacre and subsequent cover-up, almost all were cleared of wrongdoing in military courts. Even Capt. Ernest Medina, the commanding officer present in My Lai who took part in the killings, was declared innocent. In the judicial farce that followed the massacre, there were was only one conviction. Lt. William Calley became the scapegoat for the entire massacre. In 1971 he was found guilty of 22 counts of premeditated murder. Although Calley was sentenced to life imprisonment and hard labor, even this feeble attempt at justice was foiled. Soon after his conviction Calley’s sentence was reduced by President Nixon. He served only a few days in jail, followed by 3 ½ years of ‘house arrest’.

A large museum plaque lists those who died here

This massacre caused many anti-war protestors to label US soldiers in Vietnam as ‘baby killers’. Average American citizens back home almost couldn’t believe it. They wanted to know how a group of average American young men had been turned into cold blooded killers of civilians. There were no simple answers. The Viet Cong wore civilian clothing, so US soldiers often couldn't tell if Vietnamese were friend or foe. The vast differences in language and culture compounded the problem. Other soldiers of Charlie Company had already been killed or wounded by landmines and booby traps. Add to that the recent death of a popular sargeant, and the massacre could be interpreted as a revenge attack. But the biggest reason for the killing seems to be that the soldiers were ordered to do it by their superiors.

I exit the museum, and come to the main memorial sculpture. The grey stone statue stands two stories high. It’s a grim image; two surviving women among a group of lifeless bodies. One stern faced woman holds a dead child in one arm, while her other arm points skyward in a fist. The killings didn’t bring defeat to the Viet Cong here. If anything, this massacre strengthened their resolve to fight on, and led other civilians to join their cause.

With the opening of the museum, the number of visitors to My Lai has grown. Visitors can take photos of anything they want here, but the press is still tightly controlled in Vietnam, so professional media are kept on a leash. For this reason, two foreign visitors drew a great deal of attention a few years ago. On that day, Vietnamese staff noticed an American with a professional video camera, accompanied by an older American. Since the pair didn’t have official permission to film a documentary, they were brought into the museum office. There they were questioned by the director, Pham Thanh Cong. As a young boy, he had also survived the massacre here. After questioning, the older American eventually confessed to being one of the soldiers of Charlie Company who took part in the massacre that day.

This survivor later became the museum director

“Why did you kill my family?” the director yelled at him. “How could you do such a thing?” The war veteran sobbed, and gave the same excuse given by other soldiers that had killed civilians in My Lai. “I was ordered to do it.”

The old veteran is lucky that he wasn’t arrested for war crimes. Fortunately for him, the policy of the current Vietnamese government is not to dwell on the wars of the past. In the interest of continuing positive relations with the American government, he was released, but not before his unannounced visit made the local papers.

One film director interested in this little village is Oscar winner Oliver Stone. A Vietnam veteran himself, Stone recently visited My Lai, aiming to film a movie about the massacre. After Stone went through all the official channels, the Vietnamese government withheld their blessing, and rejected his request to film his movie about My Lai within Vietnam. It seems that the government prefers that the massacre, like the rest of the war, should be left in the past. Like so many Vietnamese I’ve met, they prefer to focus on Vietnam’s present and future. 

Ha and another friendly survivor, Thi Lien, continue their daily work of gardening on the grounds of the memorial park. I’m amazed that these two ladies have the fortitude to work on the same land where they lost their family members. I’m further amazed that both of them were so easily able to smile and wave at me, an American.

“After the war ended, the government gave me a small house,” Ha said. She had another child, and her surviving family moved back near My Lai. She now has grandkids as well. Although she still mourns the loss of her two children, she isn’t consumed by hatred. “I don’t hate American people,” she told me. Ha’s forgiveness is admirable.

As for the soldiers who took part in the killings, after they escaped justice, most of the  Charlie Company infantrymen left the army as soon as they could. A couple soldiers had chosen to make the army their career, but they were later forced out of the service.

This woman escaped the massacre, because she was at the market that day

None of them can forget what they did here. After the ex-soldiers returned home to civilian life, many continued to be haunted by the memories of those that they had killed at My Lai. This left them with a new foe to confront: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Many of the ex-soldiers struggled with drug or alcohol abuse.

One of the soldiers who took part in the massacre, former Specialist 4 Robert T’Souvas, ended up homeless in Pittsburgh. He was later murdered in 1988, shot in the head by his homeless girlfriend over a bottle of vodka.

Another soldier, former Private First Class Varnado Simpson, became very remorseful over his part in the massacre. He admitted in a documentary interview that he had killed at least 25 villagers. Years later, violence would plague his own family as well, when his young son was shot to death near his house. Simpson took multiple medications to control his PTSD, and attempted suicide several times. In 1997, he finally killed himself with a shotgun.

As for the convicted Lt. Calley, after he was paroled from house arrest, he returned to Columbus, Georgia. There he worked for years at his father-in-law’s jewelry store. He had one son, and later divorced. For decades, Calley refused to speak to any journalists about the massacre. He repeatedly tried, and failed, to get a large cash advance in exchange for an exclusive interview. It wasn’t until 2009 at a Kiwanis Club meeting, that he finally gave a public apology for his role in the massacre. It took Calley more than four decades to publicly declare remorse for what he had done. Other soldiers who took part in the killings continue to bear guilt for the My Lai massacre. They live with their own personal demons.

Beyond the boundaries of the Son My memorial park, the rest of the surrounding hamlets that were destroyed that terrible morning have long ago been rebuilt. If you walked through those surrounding villages today, you would never guess that such a horrifying, evil episode could ever have taken place here.

But the awful truth is, it did happen. What happened here should never, ever be forgotten. What happened here in My Lai should forever be remembered, so that it will never, ever happen again.

MASSACRE AND THE BONE PAGODA

The Bone Temple in Ba Chuc, close to the border with Cambodia

I’m arriving at the most somber site I've seen in Vietnam. It seems to be a temple, but it's really more of a pagoda. Vietnam has many picturesque pagodas, but this one I’m approaching is unique. From a distance, it looks more like a modern, open air art pavilion. It’s blue Asian rooftop slopes inversely, dipping lower towards the center. A flamelike sculpture protrudes above. There are no walls, simple white beams support it.

Climbing the steps, I come to a small altar fronted by a large stone urn. Within are the numerous sticks of burning incense, left here by the Buddhist faithful in remembrance of departed souls.

The center area of the Bone Temple

I hear the familiar sound of flute music, but unlike the pagodas in the city, this isn’t a recording from a loudspeaker. A barefoot young man sits nearby, playing a soft and somber tune.

In the middle of the pagoda, gem shaped sculptures encircle the center. They are tall and identical, with each golden gem bearing the image of a spiritual flame. I look between the gaps of the gold sculptures, and see the contents of the enclosure in the center.

Within the glass windows, are human skulls. Their dark, blank eyes look outward at those peering in. Skull after skull is stacked next to each other, and on top of each other. Row after row, shelf after shelf.

Skulls of those killed by the Khmer Rouge in Ba Chuc

A small sign at the bottom lists the contents of this group of remains. “ADULT FEMALES OF BA CHUC FROM 21 TO 40 YEARS OLD”. Marks on some skulls give evidence of how they died. Some have bullet holes. Other skulls are cracked or shattered, from having been clubbed to death. One has a deep cut across the brow from what may have been a machete. Circling the grim enclosure, there are more skulls, of men, women and children. One group of 29 skulls is listed as “BABY OF BA CHUC UNDER 2 YEARS OLD”.

Behind these stacks of skulls, is an enormous pile of human bones. The skulls may have been separated and carefully displayed, but it appears that the rest of the bones from these unfortunate souls were all just piled up all together.

This grim site is known as the ‘Bone Pagoda’, in the village of Ba Chuc. There are many victims entombed in this memorial, but they weren't killed during the war with the Americans. Those that died here, were some of the first casualties of the war that came afterwards. When the communist rebels won in Vietnam in April of 1975, the communist rebels in Cambodia, known as the Khmer Rouge, were victorious only two weeks later. This area of the Mekong Delta, is less than five miles from the Cambodian border. Soon the Khmer Rouge began crossing the frontier to attack their Vietnamese ‘comrades’. Then then they came here, to Ba Chuc.

On April 18th, 1978, Khmer Rouge fighters crossed the nearby border, and killed every person that they could find. By the time they left on April 30th, they had massacred 3,157 people in 14 communities around Ba Chuc. Their attacks were so murderously insane, that the Khmer Rouge killed not only ethnic Vietnamese civilians, but also many ethnic Khmers who already lived here.

The reasons for these murderous attacks had nothing to do with communist ideology; for them it was a nationalistic fight to take back lost land. For centuries the entire Mekong Delta region, including what is now Ho Chi Minh City, used to be part of Cambodia. That changed in 1757, when the delta was annexed by an expanding Vietnam. Ever since then, the Cambodians have considered the Mekong Delta an occupied province. It is still known to them today as ‘Khmer Krom’, which means ‘Lower Cambodia’.

Thousands of Khmers still call the delta home. On our way to Ba Chuc, we passed Khmer villages that were noticeably poorer than Vietnamese villages. The poverty and discrimination helped fuel the Khmer Rouge's hatred of the Vietnamese. When the Khmer Rouge came to power in Cambodia, their leadership decided it was high time for the delta to be returned to their control. The massacres in Vietnamese villages here and elsewhere, were all part of Pol Pot’s insane plan to take back the Mekong Delta, by force.

The songs from a lone flute player serenade the dead

These brutal attacks were a shock to many, since the Vietnamese communists and the Khmer Rouge had been supporting each other for years during their ‘revolutions’. The North Vietnamese Army had often fought alongside their Khmer Rouge comrades. They supported them with training, supplies, and weapons, until their relationship soured. Those very weapons were turned back against them here in Ba Chuc, and used against Vietnamese civilians. The Khmer Rouge had savagely bitten the hand that fed them.

Most of the attacks occurred at night, and besides killing civilians, the Khmer Rouge destroyed every building that they could. Besides border villages, the Khmer Rouge even attacked and briefly held Vietnamese islands in the South China Sea.

I leave the depressing pagoda, and find my translator Nga, who has taken interest in an old Vietnamese vendor selling roots and herbs. Nga selects some to purchase, and as we chat, I learn his story.

His name is Tu Huong, and his family lived here even before the massacre. “I was a farmer then,” Tu tells us of the time. “I heard from a soldier friend that fighting was coming.”

Fearing for his life, he left the region. Tu wanted to come back for his family and cattle, but he was too fearful. Communication with his family was also a problem, since in those days, there were few phones in his nearby village of Phi Lai. A month later, the massacre happened. Tu lost his wife, his mother and an uncle.

Tu's wife and 2 other family members died in the massacre

After Nga buys her roots, we ask Tu to accompany us. With his easy manner and kind eyes, I can tell Tu enjoys helping people, and he agrees to show us inside the community temple. This temple also has a horrific story from those terrible days. As the villagers fled the killing, some took refuge inside, hoping the Khmer Rouge would respect the sanctity of the temple. But it didn’t make any difference. Since the Khmer Rouge were violent atheists, they killed everyone inside the temple that they could.

For years, dark blood stains were left on the temple floor, and there was a smell of death in the air. As we walk though the temple, I see that most of the blood has been cleaned up. Tu points out some remnants of the stains, that seem to resemble human faces. 

"People hide in there,” Tu says, showing us a crawl space under a temple altar. Many frightened Vietnamese crowded into this small space to try and hide from the killing. “They throw in grenades,” Tu continues. “40 people die.”

Years later, the walls of this temple room were repainted in a morbid way. Along the base of the wall are waves of red painted up from the floor. They are painted unevenly, like eerie red ocean waves. They symbolize all the blood that flowed here.

We leave the temple, and head back by the vendors. Tu tells us that he later married again, and with his present wife he sells herbs and traditional medicines. As we are walking, he touches two parts of my back with his hand, saying that he can help me with back pain.

I am momentarily stunned. I never told him I had back pain, and he touched my back in the exact locations where I’ve had back pain recently. How did he know?

Before we leave, I stop in the local one room museum. The images within are disturbing. Grisly photos lining the walls show corpses lying where they fell in Ba Chuc. Eyewitness accounts from local survivors describe how they escaped the carnage.

Among the displays are two US Army gas cans, the kind seen on the back of jeeps. The Khmer Rouge captured these and other US made equipment from the Cambodian Army. Later the Khmer Rouge brought them to Ba Chuc, and used their contents to torch buildings before discarding them.

Gas cans, used to torch the buildings

Strangely, both the Khmer Rouge and Vietnamese used captured US made materials and weapons against their former communist ‘brothers’. But when it came to firepower, the Vietnamese had even more captured US made weapons than the Khmer Rouge did. I recall a Huey helicopter I recently saw outside a Saigon museum. Captured from the ARVN, it had been repainted with the logo of communist Vietnam. When Vietnam invaded Cambodia later in 1978, that chopper went back into action. There were US made weapons being used by both sides of this new war. 

This use of foreign weapons makes me wonder. If there had never been any foreign arms brought into Southeast Asia at all, (from the US, USSR, China, France) what weapons would they have used here? Knives and bamboo spears?

12th century Khmer empire that included Mekong Delta

When Vietnam decided to invade Cambodia and remove the Khmer Rouge, disbelieving westerners never saw the war coming. This was almost inconceivable. Two communist armies, previously allies, turned on each other. These former friends were intent on annihilating the other. 

The rag-tag army of Khmer Rouge fighters had raised the ire of the largest, most experienced army in all of Southeast Asia. Their leader Pol Pon, as Pol Pot is known here, would be outnumbered, outgunned, and he would lose.

As horrible as the Ba Chuc massacre was, history can say that these people did not die in vain. Their deaths influenced the Vietnamese government to invade Cambodia, and force the murderous Khmer Rouge out of power. When this attack happened here, it was the beginning of the end for the Khmer Rouge. The days of the Cambodia genocide were numbered. 

The border to Cambodia is open and peaceful now, but there are still some Vietnamese Army bases in use out along the delta highway. After what happened here, it seems that the Vietnamese never want to leave this area of the delta undefended again.